


Outlaw

by Agent_24



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M, Western, deadlock - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 23:14:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10932024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agent_24/pseuds/Agent_24
Summary: After a few hours in the hands of vengeful Deadlock members, bounty hunter Gabriel Reyes finds himself in a bit of a predicament with one of his more slippery targets.





	Outlaw

**Author's Note:**

> A 'request' for Noxdrawstrash on tumblr!

It’s a shitty way to die, really.

Gabriel never figured he’d end up taking on the whole of Deadlock all at once. It wasn’t something he’d worked into his plans; one could even call it an _interruption_ of his plans, truthfully. There were a lot of men with high bounties in Deadlock, men that he’d planned to kill or, if the reward demanded, bring in one at a time, but at the moment, he’d been in pursuit of a loner, an _ex_ -Deadlock. 

He’d be rich if he could only get out of this alive, he realizes mournfully. Or rather, he’d be rich if he had time to bring back proof of the kills. Eight Deadlock members lie in heaps on the ground, but now his shotguns are woefully empty, and the rest of the gang descends on him as he reaches for his pistol.

It was a _nice_ pistol, not meant for the hands of ruffians, but damned if he’d get it back now.

It’s a shame. He thinks about his sisters and wonders if they’ll ever get confirmation of his death. He thinks about his mother and how she must be clicking her tongue at his foolishness from heaven, if there was one, and he thinks about that glass of bourbon he should’ve finished the last time he was at a bar.

Deadlock members have their fun with him for hours, though he questions if it’s for revenge or just for kicks. Gabriel hacks up blood on his pretty leather coat and thinks about how nice their heads would look on a stick before he passes out.

* * *

He’s sore when he wakes. 

It’s strangely cool, though something itchy pricks at his back - hay? - and it’s quiet. The silence is immediately worrying because he can’t imagine Deadlock leaving him to die alone in the desert. That sort of thing is too refined for them.

He tries to peek through his lashes, but his eyes are sealed shut, which either means he’s blindfolded, been asleep for a long time, or both. He tries to get up and finds his limbs have been bound, which is dreadfully alarming if he’s honest, and whoever tied him is grievously incredible at knots. His coat is unfortunately missing, and he mourns the loss of his custom rifles.

“I see you ain’t bit the dust,” comes a voice, close by.

Gabriel jumps. The voice is thick with a Southern drawl in a way that his will never be, smooth and charming in a way that immediately pricks at his nerves.

“I’m hard to kill,” he tosses back, going still. He bites his tongue immediately after, realizing it probably came across as a dare.

“Oh, trust me, sweetheart, I know full well.” There’s a clink of spurs against old wood. They’re in a barn, Gabriel realizes, and he’s possibly in deeper shit than he was before. He tenses as the footsteps get closer, a powerful presence looming over him, but his captor only reaches out to lift the blindfold from Gabriel’s eyes.

McCree, crouching, exhales smoke; Gabriel wrinkles his nose and turns away. McCree grins and lifts the brim of his hat with one finger, cigar pinched between his teeth. “How’re you feelin’, sugar?” he asks, teasing.

“Seeing as I’m not dead, I’d say I’m doing alright,” Gabriel returns.

“Could be I brought y’here to kill you,” McCree points out.

“Could be,” Gabriel allows. “Could be you just like watching me squirm.”

“Now, what kinda sick bastard do you take me for?” McCree asks, hand over his heart, feigning hurt. “Really, Reyes, y’wound me.”

“I’d do much better if I had a gun,” Gabriel assures him.

McCree snorts. “Why else d’you think I tied you up?”

“You act like I should know what you’re into.”

“Awful sassy for somebody in this kinda predicament, aren’tcha?” McCree smiles.

“If you really wanted me dead,” Gabriel says carefully, “You’d’ve let Deadlock have their way with me.”

McCree scoffs. “I don’t like lettin’ those sonsabitches have anythin’.” He taps his cigar, lets the ashes fall to the floor, and flashes Gabriel another grin. “’Sides, I still got a bullet with your name on it, sweetheart.”

Gabriel considers that and decides not to point out that McCree’s missed on purpose many a time. “Here’s your chance then,” he says finally. “You’ve got me all helpless. Take your best shot."

McCree raises an eyebrow, then sits down on the floor, keeping his distance. His tattered serape drags on the floor, and Gabriel nearly cringes at his poor treatment of the fabric. “I don’t much like losin’,” McCree says, “But I don’t much like unfair fights either. Real shame to toss out my best competition, don’tcha think?”  

“Ooh, flattery.”

“Ain’t flattery if I mean it,” McCree says smoothly.

“What do you want, McCree?” Gabriel asks. He lifts his arms to examine the rope around his wrists, pinching the end of the knot between his teeth and tugging.

McCree watches him with amusement. “Alright, I ain’t gonna sugarcoat it. What I want is Deadlock’s head.”

Gabriel stops tugging on the rope and looks up. “So does everybody,”  he says, suspicious. “A man can’t just waltz on in and kill the big man. Some say he ain’t even real.”

“Oh, he’s real,” McCree says with certainty. “I seen ‘im. Ugly bastard.”

“And what’s that got to do with me?”

“There’s a nice reward for bringin’ him in,” McCree says.

“Enticing. Still suicidal.”

“Maybe not,” McCree replies. “Hear me out, darlin’, if you’re willin’.”

Gabriel considers it. He hadn’t lied when he said the idea was enticing, but it’s possible McCree’s trying to charm him again, and it’s working a little better than he’d like. “I’m listening,” he says, against his better judgment.

McCree smiles. “You’n me, we’re different kinda men than most fools runnin’ in Deadlock. Some of ‘em are just halfwits with guns. An’ I do believe you took out a good lot of ‘em before you got overwhelmed.”

“Eight,” Gabriel recalls.

McCree whistles. Gabriel wants to call bullshit, knows McCree already saw the corpses. “Now see there, that’s some talent. You and me, we’re cut from the same cloth, y’know, much as you hate to admit it.”

“Same cloth my ass,” Gabriel sneers.

“Oh, don’t deny it, sweet thing,” McCree chides. “You ain’t chased me the last six years just to pretend we ain’t the same. Now, I reckon you’n me together could take Deadlock out easy. You go home with a pretty penny in your pocket, and maybe you forget you ever saw that bounty of mine, huh?”

He likes the idea more than he ought to. “And if I say no?”

“Well now, I ain’t in the habit of ruinin’ pretty faces,” McCree says. “So if you really ain’t interested, I could leave you here.”  

“That’d be cruel of you,” Gabriel reasons.

“Oh yeah, ‘specially seein’ as I’d take all the water with me.”

“You like me chasing you,” Gabriel accuses. “Don’t pretend you wouldn’t leave a knife where I could get to it.”

“Alright, I won’t,” McCree agrees. “But only if you quit pretendin’ you hate the idea of workin’ with me.” He grins. “Hell, I was even nice to you, cleanin’ up those wounds and all. Even got them fancy guns of yours back.”

Gabriel grins - he doesn’t mean to, not really - and says, “Careful there. It’s starting to sound like you’re sweet on me.”

“Careful yourself,” McCree shoots back, playful about it. “Startin’ to sound like you don’t really mind.”

Gabriel isn’t sure if he minds or not. Realistically, he should, but realistically, McCree should’ve shot him. “So you want my help,” he says after a moment, slow, “And you want me to forget about your bounty, and in return I get all the profits from killing Deadlock.”

“Sounds about right,” McCree says. There’s a little sparkle in his eye, mischievous, like he already knows he’s got what he wants.

Gabriel knows he’s never going to stop chasing the outlaw, and he knows McCree is fully aware of that. But possibly, Gabriel forgot about the bounty a while ago, and possibly, McCree knows that too.

“Cut me loose,” Gabriel says, and McCree grins.


End file.
